


Touch me

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, dirk likes 2 think hes a sex god but in actuality he kisses like a llama, just some makeouts, thats all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is, without a doubt, the worst kisser you have ever had the displeasure of locking lips with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch me

He is, without a doubt, the worst kisser you have ever had the displeasure of locking lips with. It’s all sloppy tongue movement, less of a heated battle and more of an awkward middle-school prom dance in your mouths, minus the room for Jesus. There’s drool dripping down your chin and you don’t know if it’s yours or his. Your teeth keep knocking together and he’s biting your tongue, does he think that’s sexy? He leans forward into your and your glasses both hit. He pulls away, half whispering a curse into your lips as he pulls off his glasses and throws them on the bed next to you. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s standing in front of you. You’re both panting. You wipe the drool off the bottom of your chin. That was the most awkward kiss you’ve ever participated in, but there’s a charge and heat between the two of you that you won’t deny. You’re still panting when he carefully moves forward, bracing his knees on the top of the bed and easing himself up. The bed moans under added weight. He straddles your hips and watches you carefully as you move to see how you react. You’re surprisingly ok with this. He’s never been anything like subtle, and that’s endearing in a way. Your breath hitches as he shifts and the friction of his jeans against your crotch makes you curl your hands into the bedsheets. He grins, and you can tell he hadn’t meant to do that. 

Before you can catch your breath normally he leans over you and plants his mouth over yours. It’s hot and you’re both beginning to sweat, as you reach your hands up behind his neck you can feel how the fabric has gone damp. He cups your chin and tilts your face up towards his, you break away for breath and he just continues down your neck and to your collarbone. You fall back onto the bed and he follows you, bracing himself over your chest with his forearms on either side of your head. He’s kissing and sucking at your neck and he’s grinning in between each one at the breathy sounds you can’t help but make, and you won’t let him one up you. 

His shoulder is firm and you guess normally you couldn’t catch him off guard like this, but the last thing he was expecting mid-makeout was for you to shove him to the side. He flops onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with confused, naked eyes. Before he regains his composure you’re over him, this time you’re the one smirking as you straddle him. You grind against him purposefully and you can see in the tightness of his shoulders and the way he gapes as his head tilts up that he likes it. You fling off your shirt and it lands somewhere behind you, your glasses are set more gently next to his. Instantly his hands are all over your back as you kiss again and the texture of his hands are foreign on your skin. This is less sensual and more curious, probing and scientifical. His hands are surprisingly soft. 

You two are finally working out a rhythm, figuring out some sort of functional melody in your mouths so it’s not an awkward cacophony of saliva and your breath comes short as you gradually go faster and faster. He curls his hands in your hair and yours grips his shoulders and there’s nothing but panting and the wet sound of lips meeting between you- then you try to adjust your hand and you lose your balance and the silence of the bedroom is broken as your two foreheads collide. 

The tension is immediately broken as sharp pain blooms in your forehead and begins to throb. You sit up and cup your head in both hands with a soft moan, that was a hard knock- there’s stars in your vision. 

“Nice one.” You open one eye to look at Dirk beneath you and he’s grimacing similarly. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” You mutter, dropping one hand and just rubbing the point of impact with one hand. 

“Really? I just figured knocking your skull against your boyfriend’s was some new atmospheric tactic I wasn’t privy too. Like we’re stag beetles and you’re trying to assert your superiority.” You move off him and sit on the edge of the bed so he can sit up. 

“I take it we’re done.” You sigh. You wipe a wetness from your neck and mindlessly probe a hot spot you’re pretty sure will develop into a hickey by tomorrow. You’re already mentally scanning your wardrobe for a shirt with a collar to hide it. 

“I dunno, if you’re really not down for it I’m cool with that, I could stand to continue.” You look over at him incredulously, and you can see the pretty obvious hard-on tenting his pants. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh.” He repeats, with less of a blank stare than you. “Like I said, I can take care of this myself if you don’t-”

“No, stop, shut up,” you interrupt him, “I’m fine! I just wanted to make sure I didn’t give you a concussion or something.” 

“Is your head really that hard?”

“Oh my god, I will leave.”

“No, please.” His voice is tender, and it throws you off a little. There’s a flush to his face you can see in the scant light filtering in from the windows. He wants this bad. You don’t say anything, you just slip from the bed so you’re kneeling on the floor between his knees. You gesture to pants, as if the next course of action should be obvious. He hesitates, and you know exactly what he wants. The sharp exhale through his teeth as your fingers are at his zipper is entirely worth it, the grin never leaves your face.

The gratification of watching his carefully built facade of aloofness and separation crumble as your hands pull his jeans from his hips is indescribable. There’s some palpable joy in watching him melt under your touch. You’ll let him make the first move sometimes, but you both secretly know it’s so much better when you take charge.


End file.
